


Emotional First-Aid For Amateur Busybodies

by PepperF



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, season 6 tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 14:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6615049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>School's out and Annie's going away and nothing really matters. Which doesn't explain why he's awake at 2 a.m. worrying about it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional First-Aid For Amateur Busybodies

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bethany, without whom Annie and Abed would have been a lot more callous. ;)

It's past 2 a.m. and Jeff can't sleep.

This doesn't really matter, because tomorrow he can sleep in. In fact, he can probably sleep in all summer, because school's out and Annie's going away and nothing really matters. Which doesn't explain why he's awake at 2 a.m. worrying about it all.

Of course, being awake makes it easier for him to hear the knock on his front door.

Heart pounding for no good reason, he's there in record time, before she—before _whoever it is_ has time to knock again. And it's Annie; for once his instincts weren't wrong.

"Annie?" His voice is rusty, so he clears his throat before he tries again. "What are you doing here?"

"We were interrupted before I had a chance to respond," she says.

Jeff squints. He honestly thought she had responded, when she told him to suck it up and embrace being old. Okay, he's paraphrasing, but this is the conclusion he's reached after turning her words over and over in his head for the past several hours.

He doesn't get a chance to say anything more than "Huh?" though, because suddenly his mouth is otherwise occupied. He stumbles back slightly from how she's just _thrown herself bodily at him_ , but recovers with impressive unexpected-2-a.m.-kiss–handling speed. Mostly this involves wrapping his arms around her and hauling her closer, pulling her into the apartment just far enough to get the door shut, and then pressing her up against it. 

He sets aside the question of 'why' to be dealt with later. Much later.

"Jeff," she says, between kisses. "Take me to bed."

Much, much, _much_ later.

Which is how these little misunderstandings start.

\---

A few days later, Jeff spends an evening hanging out at apartment 303 while Britta's at work, because he wants to get some time in with Annie and Abed before they disappear for the summer and for the foreseeable future respectively. And okay, so maybe he and Annie haven't actually spent more than four hours apart since the events of Friday night, but so what? He's allowed to admit that he's going to miss her, right? Especially now. He has no regrets about what they've started, but it's going to be even harder to let her go. As a way to cure his desperate need to have her near, it might have worked, if only he'd had more time for it to sink in. A ten-week absence might be survivable in, oh... maybe a couple of decades.

He deliberately shoves these thoughts aside for the evening, trying to focus on enjoying the here and now, and maybe that's why it takes him some time to catch on to what's happening. In fact, it isn't until Abed leans forward and says, in a suspiciously warm and compassionate tone, "And how did that make you _feel_?" that Jeff realizes something's up.

He frowns, and turns to Annie—just in time to catch her giving Abed a surreptitious kick. "Okay. What's going on?" he demands.

"What?" Yeah, she isn't fooling anyone with that innocent expression.

"Don't 'what' me. What are you two up to? Why are you trying to get me to talk about feelings?" A horrible thought occurs to him. "Are you trying to _therapize_ me?"

It's a dead giveaway when they both look guilty. Dammit, he's told them all a million times not to do this stuff to him! He even drew up a form and made Britta sign it—but not Annie or Abed because, like a chump, he figured he was safe with them.

"No, wait—Jeff!" says Annie, as he pushes to his feet. She leaps up, trying to stop him from leaving. "We just wanted to help!"

"Well, don't," he snaps, shaking off her restraining hand. Annie looks crestfallen, and... no, _no_ , he has a right not to be given amateur therapy without his awareness or consent. _He's not being unreasonable._

"Look, Jeff," says Abed. "Annie and I will be leaving soon." And just like that, Jeff's stomach plummets back down to his feet. He'd been having such a good time until now, spending time with two of his favorite people, who were both unusually happy to talk about things like John McClane's relationship with his wife, and how he felt about Paul Smith having dropped the striped underwear from his Spring/Summer collection... crap, he should have known it was a setup! "And we're worried about you. We care about you."

"Yeah, I'm really feeling it right now."

He stomps towards the front door, but Annie gets there first, throwing herself against it—which reminds him of the other night, and… 

Oh, hell no. _No_.

"Shit, is that why—"

"No!" she says, reading him instantly. "That has nothing to do with this! Any boost to your mental well-being is purely a side benefit!"

Jeff wants to believe her, he really does. A little too much for his own comfort. "Move."

But instead, her eyes flicker to Abed. "Abed, could you give us a moment?"

"Emotional denouement, gotcha."

Jeff turns to glare at Abed—which is wasted, because he's already disappearing into his room—so he turns back to direct his ire at the undoubted ringleader. "I trusted y—"

It's hard to keep talking when she's kissing him. It's also kind of hard to be mad—or to have any coherent thoughts at all, really. His hands come up to cradle her face, and he tilts his head, trying to get as close to her as humanly possible. Annie moans into his mouth, and he takes a small step forward, pushing her against the door with a thud—which kickstarts his brain again.

He moves back, gasping—and fuck, she's gorgeous with her lips reddened and her eyes half closed—but he's mad at her, he reminds himself. She was trying to manipulate him.

 _For your own good, because she cares,_ the voice in his head that sounds like Annie reminds him. _They both do._

Yeah, but now she's trying to distract him with sex!

 _Wow, that must be so terrible for you_ , says the voice, dryly.

He tries to glare at Annie, but is aware that he's somewhat losing his edge.

"Don't be mad," she says, giving him the Eyes. "I would have talked to you, but we had a very limited time. We knew we couldn't make any real changes in a week, so Abed suggested an emotional breakthrough would make you feel better. It didn't really matter what, just something to shake you out of this gloomy state. So we went for the scattershot approach. We were just going to take whatever opening we found. It's not a solution, but it might help for a while, just until I get back. And then maybe we can talk more...?"

The thought that she intends to tackle him like a problem that needs solving when she returns is simultaneously disturbing and reassuring. He might feel offended, if it weren't so depressingly true: somehow he's locked himself into this terrifying spiral, and he doesn't know how to escape. He has to admit to a huge sense of relief at the knowledge that his friends have noticed and decided to intervene at last. The only thing that concerns him is their methods, which are liable to be experimental, extreme, and highly unethical. But they're effective; he'll concede that. If Annie and Abed have decided to fix him, he's pretty sure it'll happen... whether he likes it or not. 

He presses a kiss to her forehead. "I'm not mad," he admits. "It's just… you and me, that really isn't some elaborate con, right?" He hates how insecure he sounds.

"Oh, it's totally a con," she says, rolling her eyes as if it's the dumbest question he's ever asked. "It has nothing to do with the fact that I've wanted you for years." Then—adorably—she flutters her eyelashes exaggeratedly and puts on a ridiculous, high-pitched imitation of her own voice. "Oh Jeff, I have to kiss you to win this competition! Oh Jeff, let's team up and teach the dean a lesson! Oh Jeff, you're about to get screwed in the Biology room! Oh Jeff, let's go on a ski trip, just the two of us! Oh Jeff, the Ass Crack Bandit has returned, quick, we'd better team up again! Oh Jeff, let's pretend we're in love for Abed's movie!" She purses her lips. "Are you seeing a pattern yet?"

Jeff smirks. How does she even do that—just defuse him like it was no effort whatsoever? "You've got it pretty bad for me, huh?"

"Oh, like you're any better, mister I-hate-everyone-you've-ever-dated," she scoffs.

He shrugs, but doesn't argue, because she always could see through him. Instead, he rubs his nose against hers, and then leans back slightly to admire her. She looks good like this: tousled, bright eyed, and—most importantly—close. The only thing that would improve their situation would be a softer surface and fewer clothes. "You know, if you ever do want to try fixing me with lots and lots of sex, I'm willing to volunteer my body in the name of academic research."

Annie brightens, like she thinks it's really a good idea. "You know, you might actually be onto something there, Jeff. Not that it's a cure-all, of course, but it might help. After all, you are a very tactile person. And it's scientific fact that orgasm releases hormones such as seratonin, oxytocin, and dopamine, which make you feel happier and more secure, and reduce depression and anxiety. Not to mention the positive effects on your heartrate and blood pressure."

Holy crap, how did he ever get this lucky? "Well, yeah. Obviously." He crinkles his eyes at her (she loves that). "Did I skip that Biology lesson?"

"Probably."

He kisses her, because she gets this adorable pout when she remembers he's a slacker. "Isn't dopamine really addictive?" he asks.

She smiles (she also loves it when he shows he has actually learned a thing or two in class). "Yes, I think so."

"So, if we were to have lots of sex..."

"It would probably make us want to have lots more," she says, closing her eyes as he strokes his hand through her hair. "Mmm. And oxytocin is believed to enhance the bond between sexual partners, so we'd only want to have lots of sex with each other." Her eyes slit open, and she looks at him.

"Definitely," he says firmly—and her eyes close again, satisfied. "So I guess that would mean you'd _have_ to come back from DC, right?"

"No question about it. I mean, it's science."

"Awesome." He leans his forehead against hers. "This might be the best plan I've ever come up with."

"Is Jeff fixed yet?" asks Abed, from somewhere behind him.

Jeff is feeling pretty comfortable where he is, so he doesn't turn around. "Getting there," he says. "Annie's coming to my place tonight to work on it some more." He's relieved when her arms tighten around him at this piece of news.

"Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Your style of therapy was pretty noisy the other night."

Annie stands on tiptoe to glare over his shoulder at Abed, while Jeff grins into her neck like a fool. "I have four words for you: Spring. Break. Pogo. Festival."

"Hey, far be it from me to argue with your methods," says Abed. "It's working, right?"

Jeff whispers a suggestion in Annie's ear that makes her go pink, all across her cheeks and down to the tip of her nose. She shoots him a look that's reproving and encouraging at the same time. It's totally hot. 

"Oh, it's working," she says. "It's definitely working."


End file.
